


Inside these walls he screams

by RenSweets



Series: It started with a cage [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Alternian Invasion, BAMF Peter Hale, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, First of Series, For reasons not yet disclosed, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I made stiles a bit short, M/M, Natash and Clint are kinda assholes, No Hale Pack, Not Beta Read, Peter is a tad taller, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles trust only one man, Violence, Werewolf Mates, snarky peter hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 05:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenSweets/pseuds/RenSweets
Summary: “Can you hear me?” The question is loud and makes him wince as his ears finally come back online. He wishes they wouldn't have now, not when that deep voice makes his head throb and his eyes pulse behind his closed lids.





	Inside these walls he screams

**Author's Note:**

> I DO NOT own Teen Wolf or Marvels Avengers, I am not making a profit off this work. It's only for fun.

There's a pounding in the back of his head like someone is taking a sledgehammer to his skull. His eyes throb as they moved behind his closed lids. They're too heavy to open, no matter how hard he demands them to do so. His body is stiff in a way he is all to familiar with, memories of being beaten and tortured for hours for information he would never hand over. The sound of his once friends muffled screams echo in his mind as they had watch him being beaten within a inch of his life.

A message to his so called brother who never came for him.

The new pain in his body brings back bitter memories he rather not focus on. Not when he is currently in an undisclosed location hurting in ways that in some small part of his mind make him wish he wasn't alive. That thought only last a moment, because now he's registering more of his surroundings as he starts to fully come back to himself.

There are voice's, tones and words coming from several people who he assumes are close by. The words are muffled by the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He tries to focus on the one that is the loudest, possibly they are shouting at him, it sounds to be that way.

It's hard though, to get his ears to cooperate and just fucking focus on what is being said.

His throat vibrates, hopefully it's not a whimper but with the way his body throbs and silently cries out in pain it probably is. He doesn't want to show any weakness to those voices that slowly start to get louder, not if they are the reason he's currently confused and hurting so badly. He was no coward and he sure the hell didn't want to show weakness in front of unknown bystanders.

He makes a sad attempt to cut off the sound leaving his throat not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they hurt him. It's a poor attempt he knows, especially when he goes to move and it rips a loud cry from his throat. He's cuffed to a wall he realizes, his chin resting on his chest as he slowly lifts his head.

He still can't get his eyes to fucking open, and for one wild moment he wonders if they are swollen shut. After a moment he decides they aren't, he knows that feeling all to well and this didn't feel like that. His body is simply just to exhausted to do as he asks.

“Can you hear me?” The question is loud and makes him wince as his ears finally come back online. He wishes they wouldn't have now, not when that deep voice makes his head throb and his eyes pulse behind his closed lids.

“Open your eyes kid.” Someone demands from his left, he turns his head, he even goes so far as to open his mouth to speak but the only thing that happens is a cough gets ripped from his throat making his ribs scream in agony. One is defiantly broken he decides, a few more bruised if he had to guess. It makes breathing painful but not unbearable.

“Kid?” The third voice is male, just like the first two, and there is a unmistakable hint of concern in the timber of it. Being called kid isn't really helping his mood though, he's not a child. He hasn't been a child since he was ten and had to step up to take care of his drunk father and make sure the bills continued to get paid and there was food for him to eat.

The word kid also brings forth more unwanted memories, that he's quick to squash. He doesn't have time to pity himself for not getting the carefree childhood all children deserve. No when he's clearly been captured and someone or multiple someone's beat the hell out of him.

After a lot of concentrating, and a few more grunts of pain he gets his eyes to open. It's no much help, the world around him is blurry and far to bright. It makes his eyes water and his skull pulsate in very unpleasant ways, but hey at least he knows now his eyes aren't swollen shut.

“Kid?” That fucking word makes him bare his teeth in frustration, he knows it probably reasonable for them to assume he's a kid. Even when he was almost twenty he still has a baby face and skin that refuses to grow facial hair. Not that he cares mind you, but being mistaken for a kid really is frustrating.

Though, he guess's in some way he is still a kid, just because he's was nineteen, legally an adult according to the law someone older than him would still see him as a child. Seeing as his eyes are currently not working properly he can't really pinpoint how old the current speaker is. One's voice really isn't a good judge for that matter, not when he's heard a fifteen year old working at the Starbucks close to his store with a voice far deeper than his own.

“Stiles.” He finally says, hoping if they have his name they will stop referring to him with that fucking word.

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Demand's a new voice, this once comes from in front of him somewhere, a bit farther away if he had to guess. The question makes him snort out a breathless laugh. How many times in his life has he heard that question? It's always spoken in so many different tones. Some confused by the name, some annoyed, hell a few had even been pissed when hearing it, fuck if Stiles cared though. His real name was a monstrosity that very few people could pronounce. Sometimes he wonders if his parents saddled him with it just to fuck with him.

“I'm Stiles, not kid.” He says, the words slurred and difficult to get past his swollen tongue and teeth that tingled and thumped with pain.

“The fuck your not a kid.” Say's the same voice, bitten off and filled with rage. “How old are you? Fucking fifteen?”

“Nineteen.” Say's Stiles, not even thinking about the fact he's giving away personal information. He's not thinking clearly okay? His brains are scrambled and his body hurts, and that small terrified part of him he's tried to keep buried deep wants to cry.

He doesn't even know how he got into this mess, he moved away from Beacon Hills for a reason. Okay, to be fair he left for many fucking reason's but one of the big ones was because he always' found a fucking away to attract trouble even when he wasn't actively looking for it. It makes him wonder if he was born under some twisted cursed star. There was no way it was normal to find this much trouble in his seemingly short life.

He blinks hard when that deep angry voice snorts out an annoyed huff.

“That's still a fucking kid in my book.”

The grin that graces Stiles lips is bitter, the slight tip of his lips is more like his baring his teeth then smiling.

“Fuck your book then.” He bits out, blinking hard again to get his eyes to focus. The double vision was starting to make him nauseous, and since his neck is currently fucking chained to a wall he didn't think vomiting was all that wise.

It takes a few moments, but when the swirl of the world finally slows and his eyes can full hold the world steady a hysterical laugh burst from his throat. His in a cage, three wall are made of nothing but thick ass metal bars, and the one he is currently leaning against is concrete and cold as fuck. There are two cages beside him, one to the left and one to the right. Then a few more were attached to them and so on.

It's not the cage that has him laughing like a manic though. It's the fucking people inside them. To his right is fucking Steve Rogers, Captain Fucking America in all his huge beautiful blonde glory. His blue eyes are large and looking at him with worry. To his left is Tony Stark, still finding a way to looking cocky even as he to is shackled to a wall, dark eyebrows raised as watches Stiles.

Hawkeye is closer to the Captain then to him, closer to the large metal doors that are about a yard away from Stiles cage. Doctor Banner is beside Stark, eyes concerned as he scans what is probably a whole list of injuries Stiles is housing. Black Widow and the winter fucking solider are even present, each member of the fucking Avengers are chained up and in their own personal cages. There's a man next to Bucky, Stiles thinks his name is Sam, but it's hard to remember. There was a lot of information that went out to the world when the accords were put into play.

It hadn't lasted of course, it's hard for the government to get their way when they are in desperate need for these people to help save them constantly from Alien attacks and wars against Demi God's.

Once Stiles is finally able to bite of his hysterical laughter he takes a much needed deep breath and groans. Fuck his body hurts, and he's thirsty as hell but the likely hood he would get some water was slim to none.

“Where the fuck are we?” Stiles finally asks, he thinks he can recall ending up here, but his brain is still a bit scrambled with no doubt numerous blows to the head he had taken. It will come back to him soon enough but until then, he needed as much information as he could get if he was going to get the fuck out of here.

Tony's eyes travel over his slumped form, probably trying to figure out if he was trust worthy. He wasn't, not to most people, but that was because he was fucking smart. He trusted only one man, and no one else. Not even the fucking Avengers, and seeing as they were dumb enough to get caught Stiles wasn't holding out on them being able to save him.

Though it looked like the fuckers were able to get caged and shackled without bodily harm. Lucky assholes.

“An underground bunker.” Say's the deep raspy voice of Barnes. He watches Stiles with narrowed eyes as he says it, like he's expecting for him to give something away with that knowledge. He wouldn't of course even if he knew anything. Stiles knew the art of lying like he knew the back of his own hand. Keeping a straight face and lying through his fucking teeth was child's play to him and not even a Super Solider was going to make him break.

He's seen and done much more terrifying things then these people knew or probably had to deal with. Sure they have seen their fair share of horrors, but Stiles has literally lived a life of horror since he was fifteen. He's seen monsters and come face to face with psychopaths that made the Winter Solider look like a fucking puppy.

“Wow, how helpful.” Stiles snarks back, as he leans his head against the wall behind him. If he wasn't so tired he could get these fucking cuffs and metal collar off himself easily, but his body needed to recharge before he even attempted to use magic to escape. He didn't want to risk knocking himself unconscious.

Might as well rest and wait for his wolf to come for him.

“Why do they want you?” Barnes barks out, clearly not liking Stiles bratty mouth, but fuck him. He was tired and in pain.

“Who are they?” Stiles asks, briefly glancing towards the man. He has a new metal arm from what Stiles could tell. It defiantly wasn't the same one he had seen in all the pictures the tv stations and newspapers had been posting. It was darker in quality, more sleek, more deadly too if Stiles had to guess.

“You don't know?” Black Widow demands, eyes narrowed towards him with distaste. Stiles finds it rude honestly, he hadn't done anything to these people but they were looking at him like he was the enemy here.

“Why the fuck would I know that?” Stiles question, he has to lift his head to look at the woman, which makes his eyes water and his breath hitch. He could feel a sob building in his chest he's trying desperately to crush. He didn't want to cry in front of these people, he didn't want to let his brave face fall when it would show how clearly terrified he was.

“They brought you hear for some reason.” Natasha says back, her voice is calm but it's clear she's getting frustrated with him by the slit twitch of her lip.

Growing up as the weird spastic kid with ADHD, the son of the Sheriff and a dead mother he didn't have many friends growing up. Most people found him to be to much. To much energy, to much noise to much movement. Others pitied him, oh poor boy, had to sit by his mothers side and hold her had as she died. Others just assumed because his father was the Sheriff he was a snitch, so not a lot of friends did that make for him.

Which left him nothing to do but people watch, he watched their movements as they grew annoyed. The twitch of a finger when they lied, the slight tip of their lips when guilty. He learned to read people like he read books, his mind always watching for signs of mistrust or a threat.

These people didn't trust him and he didn't trust them.

“I think you should be worried about yourself instead of me.” Stiles says with a lazy shrug that pulls at his rib and makes him grunt.

“I'm worried about the unknown person currently in my presents.” Bites out Natasha, eyes calculating and deadly. It should terrify him, but it doesn't. Maybe he's to exhausted to care, but he really didn't have the energy to spare.

“Look, I don't have any answers for you.” Stiles says, “Last thing I remember was locking up my shop for the day so I could do some shopping.”

He remembers planning a nice dinner for him and his wolf. A night at home that was supposed to be filled with savory food and even better sex. Apparently that hadn't happened if he was currently here, he just couldn't remember how he ended up here. Something had to have happened as he started his walk to the store but his memory was to foggy to recall at the moment. Hell he doesn't even know how long he's been here, long enough him to be beaten to a pulp and the Avengers to be captured and caged.

He could feel the bound to his Alpha pulsing deep within his spark, and thank god for that because it would make Peter finding him that much easier. Not that he was worried, Peter would always find him. He always have and always will.

Peter Hale was the only person in this world who would always look for him, who would always want to keep him.

Whoever was holding him captive had a rude awaking coming if they thought they would get away with doing this to him without consequences.

“Your shop?” Steve questions, head tilted slightly like a curious puppy.

Stiles rolls his eyes, though he would much prefer to roll his head. His neck was sore as fuck, and the collar around his throat wasn't helping with that matter.

“I sell antique books and other odds and ends.” In truth, the shop was just a front for the business he had going on in the back of the store. Granted he sold some pretty neat shit to his normal customers, but it was the supernatural community that really rolled in the cash for him. It was all under the table though so not even the nosy ass government knew how much money he was bank rolling.

“You mean you work in an antique shop?” Sam question, looking confused.

“No, I own a antique shop.” Stiles bites out, rolling his eyes once more.

“At nineteen?” Questions Hawkeye looking skeptical.

“I don't think I fucking stuttered.” Bitches Stiles, why the fuck was it so hard for these people to realize young people could have their shit together too. His age literally had nothing to do with how well he ran and operated his business. Hell he was doing better then a lot of adults he knew because he learned at a early fucking age how much the lack of cash affected ones life. It sure the hell couldn't buy true happiness, but one needed to know how to manage the shit to get by.

Stiles closed his eyes and leans his head back, trying to get his sore body to relax. Talking to these people wasn't getting him anything but frustrated. Plus it was pretty fucking clear they weren't going to share any information they might possibly happen to know so their was no real point in talking. Though lets be honest, he could talk for ages but he refused to keep sharing information if they weren't going to do the same.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Stiles doesn't remember falling asleep, he sure the hell knows the sleep wasn't very pleasant. What he does know is the scream that rips from his throat when he's unchained from the wall and forced to stand makings the Avengers jump and shout along with him.

His eyes are once again blurry and hard to focus as he's shoved from his cell, of course as is his luck he trips over his own fucking feet and crashes hard against the concrete floor. The impact knocks the air from his lungs, and the fucker that was doing the shoving doesn't give him the chance to catch his breath when he is forced to stand so they can drag him out of the room.

He tries to fight them off, he really does, but he's not really fully awake and his lungs are still screaming for air. Stiles can hear the others screaming for the men carting him off to leave him alone, but like a bad movie of course they don't fucking listen. He briefly notices Captain America struggling against the odd cuffs around his wrist and legs with no luck, and some small childish part of his soul wished the man could escape to help him. Though he knows, like he always knows, there is only one man that was able to come to his rescue and he wasn't here currently.

He really wants Peter.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Steve has to close his eyes for a moment in the hopes of blocking out the sound of Stiles screams. They're loud but slightly muffled by the heavy door the kid had been dragged through, he can slightly hear the sound of metal clinking together. The sound of some sort of power tool firing up before the pitch of the boys wails grow so loud the kid is practically breaking the sound barrier.

Bruce is looking a bit on the green side, but like the cuffs locked around his own wrist whatever they are made from seem to keep the man from letting the Hulk free to rampage. Steve isn't quite sure if that's a bad thing or not. In one case, the Hulk making an appearance might help them get free, on another it could result in the beast rampaging and killing them all. He may have advanced healing but not even he could possibly survive The Hulk flinging him around like a rag doll.

When Stiles finally falls quite, Steve has to hold his breath to keep his fear that the kid is dead from spilling past his lips. It's clear, Hydra wanted the boy for something, but that didn't mean they wouldn't go over board and kill the man.

Bucky takes a ragged breath to his left, making Steve worry for his lover. His been worried for the man since they were dropped into their cells but Hydra hasn't made a move to do anything with them yet. It was concerning, but the dozens of men dressed in tactical clothes seemed more focused on whatever it is they wanted from Stiles.

Steve knows looks could be deceiving, he learned early on in his life not to judge a book by it's cover but there was nothing about Stiles that was obvious as to why Hydra was torturing him. He was small, five eight if Steve had to guess. Thin, but toned like a runner, his hands had looked delicate even busted up and bloody as they had been. His wide honey eyes, and pale skin kissed with beauty marks made him look a bit younger than his proper age. The dark tussles of his hair added to that youthful look.

Hell the kid wasn't even as toned as Parker and Steve knew the kid could bench press a fucking jet. So Steve couldn't judge what the kid could do, but it still didn't sit well with him that Hydra was clearly drawn to him for some reason.

Steve was damn grateful Peter hadn't been with them when they had fallen into the trap.

The loud sound of the metal doors sliding open pulled Steve from his thoughts, his eyes jumping towards the only entrance to this large room. Two masked men came strolling forward, Stiles was held between them, legs limp and head bowed toward the floor as he was dragged forward. Steve and the others watch, biting their tongues as the strap the collar back around the boys neck and drop him towards the floor.

One of the men pull a thick chain out of their cargo pants hooking it onto the wall then to the collar. There are no seams or clasp, and Steve wonders about how that works but it's clean as they leave the room they had no intentions of hooking his neck right against the wall.

Steve was slightly worried about the change in position but thought better than to ask why. Before they had taken the boy he had been clearly beaten and bruised, struggling to sit in the position they forced him into. Now small puddles of blood formed under his body as he laid where he was dropped.

It was only the harsh gasp of breath that let everyone know the kid was still alive.

Steve watches as the men leave the room, not sparing anyone a single glance, not even when Bucky tenses up and bares teeth at them. The sound of the door slamming shut echoes in the large room followed by the sound of locks being engaged.

Steve waits till he's sure the men are far enough away before he calls out to the boy. He may not know the kid, and a small part of him doesn't trust the boy, but he's still so young and that pulled at the protective part of him.

“Stiles?” Steve calls, voice soft and coxing hoping it wouldn't spook the boy as he came back to himself. Steve doesn't have a clear view of the damage that was done to him. His clothes that are torn and hanging lose around his body hides it away, but there is blood forming under his right hip. A bruise that is darkening along his jaw and blood slowly trickled out of his mouth to puddle around his chin and cheek that is pressed against the floor.

When he doesn't answer Steve glances up towards Tony hoping the man could see better than him. The heavy panting that had been easy to hear had died down and now Steve was worried the boy wasn't breathing at all.

“His chest is still in motion Cap.” Tony says, frowning towards the boy.

The words don't really help settle Steve any.

“Stiles, can you hear me?” Steve calls again, wishing he could move from the wall so he could reach through the bars and touch the boy to make sure he had a pulse. Sure Tony could see his chest contract with his breathing but he could be falling into shock and that could just as easily kill him.

A strained almost manic giggle leaves the boys lips, startling Steve. The chain attached to the collar clinks against the floor as Stiles pushes his self up, wide eyes blinking open once he's steady on his ass, legs sprawled in front of him.

He's still giggling, a quite sound that slowly grows louder as he takes in his bloody body.

“COME BACK YOU STUPID FUCKERS!” Stiles suddenly shouts, a laugh following after.

“What the fuck?” Shouts Clint as he looks wide eyed towards the boy.

“Stiles?” Steve, calls for the boys attention again, but he's quickly ignored.

“COME BACK AND PLAY WITH ME!” More manic laughter follows the boys screamed words, head tilting forward as he spits out a mouth full of blood.

“Stiles, Stop it!” Steve, commands hoping to pull the boy out of whatever the hell this was. The laughter is dark and twisted, those pretty honey eyes are dark and manic as they stare at the door. Steve doesn't know why he kid would want his torturers to come back, but Steve wasn't to sure the boy was currently in his right mind.

Stiles is suddenly stumbling to his feet, swaying as he does so, more laughter bubbles up and falls from his lips as he moves towards the barred door to his cell. His battered hands grab the bars, drawing Steve's eyes towards the broken crooked fingers.

“My wolfs gonna get you.” Stiles sing songs out, voice dreamy as he sways, “He's gonna come and rip you to fucking pieces.”

“Seriously!” Clint shouts. “What the fuck kid? Sit the fuck down!”

Stiles giggles. “He's coming.” The boy whispers, more blood spilling from his lips. “Don't you hear him coming for you?”

Brows knitted with confusion and worry Steve tries calling the boys name again. It's clear he's hallucinating, because Steve hears nothing and he sure the hell doesn't hear a wolf. Why would their be a wolf anywhere near New York City.

“One, two my wolfs coming for you.” Giggles Stiles, eyes now bright as he sways.

“Kid, sit your creepy ass down!” Clint shouts, he's looking worried as he yells at the boy. Be it for his mental health or because it didn't look like Stiles could survive another beating.

“Stiles.” Bruce calls out, voice soft and kind as he tries to catch the boys attention. “Stiles, you're very hurt. Why don't you sit down and relax for me.”

Stiles blinks towards Banner, smiles and giggles as he looks the man over. “But my wolf is coming for me, don't you hear him?”

Bruce shakes his head sadly. “I don't hear anything Stiles. Can you tell me where all that blood is coming from?”

“He's coming.” Stiles says stubbornly, the belts out a laugh and a shout of glee as he tilts his head to the side, as if listening for something.

“Come save me.” The boy whispers to the air, eyes wide as he looks towards the door. “Come rip them all apart.”

Steve glances towards the door, it stays closed of course and Steve is thankful for that. The last thing Stiles needs is for Hydra to come back in here and get him again.

“RIP THEM APART!” Stiles suddenly screams, shaking the bars of his cell. Steve goes to shout for him to stop but a loud bellow of an alarm system lets out a wail as two large red lights by the large sliding doors flare to life.

There's a sudden commotion behind the doors, loud shots and dozens of feet rushing around. Gun fire could be head from above, Stiles laughs through the sound as the sliding door slams open as more than a dozen Hydra members come spilling into the room. Several languages are being used, words being shouted into radios and ear pieces as they check their weapons strapped to their chest.

“What the fuck is that!?” One of the agents shouts, looking towards the ceiling like he could see whatever it was coming for him. Whatever is happening up there has several of those Hydra bastards clearly terrified.

“What the fuck is coming down here?” Another man shouts, swinging around to look towards Stiles who giggles at the question.

“I warned you.” The boy ways with a bloody smile. “I told you he would be angry, but you didn't listen. They never listen.” Screams and a rainfall of bullets fill the room from the floors above us.

Another man, one who is clearly in higher rank is barking orders to the Hydra agents in the room, making the fall into line guns at the ready.

“Oh no.” Stiles says with a happy click of his tongue. “Those guns won't hurt my wolf.”

Another wild giggle falls from the boys lips.

“Shut up!” Someone barks towards the boy, making the strange kid smile gleefully.

“He's going to rip you to fucking pieces. He's going to feast on your bloody fucking hearts and crush them between his teeth.” More terrified screams follows Stiles words, the shots being fired are clearly doing nothing to help the men on the above floors.

Steve can hear something now, above those screams. The heavy crash of something large running around on the floor directly above them, and hand to god a horrifying howl follows bitten off wails of pain.

Stiles back up a few paces, he's more steady now, his smile wide then he claps, the sound is loud like a crack of thunder and like fucking magic his chains fall away. The collar around this throat clatters towards the floor with a heavy thump as it wobbles before falling still.

With eyes now a bright vivid neon green he throws out a blood hand, the metal of the bars keeping him caged blow away. On sure steady feet the boy leaves his cell, he stops just a few feet outside of his confines and smiles.

Then like a monster out of a horror movie a large beast comes barreling towards the large sliding doors. An petrifying howls rips from the beast throat as it barreling towards the first roll of Hydra. Blood splatters and bones crunch as the large jaws of the beast rip through four men in a matter of seconds. Bullets fly, and with an elegant flutter of his hand the ammo that was propelling towards the massive wolf fall to the floor like confetti.

Screams and blood gurgles fill the room over the sounds of snapping bones and the ripping of flesh.

One Hydra agent makes a B-line towards Stiles, screaming as he does so. Steve shouts out a warning, pulling against his cuffs in the hopes of trying to protect the kid but with a pretty laugh Stiles simply lifts a hand, gives it a little wave sending the man sailing through the air into the beast waiting jaw.

In a matter of minutes the wolf takes out twenty men. Blood and scattered body parts litter the floor as it finally falls silent.

“Holy shit.” Clint whispers, looking shocked towards the black beast now slowly making its way towards Stiles. The head of the wolf is massive, it's teeth bloody and sharp as it licks at it's lips. It's easily standing at five foot tall, it's mass is bulking and full of power as it stalks forward.

Those eyes, they are large and predatory and shine a deep red.

“Stiles.” Steve calls out, he regrets the word the moment those haunting eyes land on him. The wolf growls, baring teeth and snapping it's jaw.

“My beautiful wolf.” Stiles whispers, stumbling forward till his face was buried into the thick black fur. The wolf trills, it's tail wagging for a few moments before he cuffs. Stiles whines when he's gently bumped away from the wolf.

Something happens in the next few moment that's Steve isn't to sure he wants to believe. The wolfs body contracts and shudders. The sound of bones snapping and muscles seizing can be heard as the beast give a wild shake.

“What the fuck!?” Clint shouts.

“Holy shit.” Sam whispers, jaw going slack. Everyone startles in their own way, eyes going wide, words of confusion and wonder can be heard from everyone but Stiles and the man that now stood in the wolfs place.

He's as naked as the day he was born. Skin tan and muscles rippling and sculpted in a way that puts even Steve's body to shame. He's a inch at most shorter than Steve, but several inches taller than Stiles smaller body.

Stiles hums, hands fluttering through the air. Then appearing out of no where an expensive pair of jeans are dangling from Stiles slim fingers. The man huffs out a quite chuckle as he pulls the jeans on over thick thighs and an ass that's nicely formed. Steve isn't trying to notice but its hard to miss as the man bends to slide the material over his legs. He doesn't button the jeans, leaving them hanging off the sharp V of hips.

Stiles makes a hungry little sound that makes even Natasha blush slightly.

“Sweetheart, whatever did you get yourself into this time?” The deep velvety sound of the mans voice makes Steve shiver. In answer Stiles pouts as he hugs the larger man, bloody arms wrapping around the mans bare chest. A rumble of sorts is pulled from the mans throat as he leans forward to bury his nose in the boys messy hair.

“It wasn't my fault.” Whines Stiles, leaning against the man his eyes falling shut as he finally relaxes.

“Oh?” Hums the man. “Now love, I know you know how to defend yourself. So however did these fools come to get their hands on you?”

As the man talks, clever fingers dances over the boys bruised and bloody arms. Fingers trail and flutter through his dark hair. When his fingers come away bloody he growls. The Avengers are to shocked to speak, to stunned to ask to be let loose, not knowing what this man was or how Stiles so easily got free of his bounds and stopped a rain of bullets.

If he could do all that, Steve wonders. How come he hadn't done it earlier.

Stiles takes a few steps back glancing around himself, eyes locking with each Avenger for a moment before he blushes then pouts.

“Stiles.” Prods the man, hands now on his hips as he waits for his question to be answered.

“There was a puppy.” Mumbles the boy, voice small as he glances up towards his partner through thick lashes.

The answer shocks the wolf turned man so much his arms fall to his side and he takes a step backwards.

“A puppy?” Questions the man, his words deadpanned. “Are you telling me, you got lured away by a man with a puppy?”

Stiles looks around wildly at all the dead bodies, eyes wide and innocent. Steve leans back against the wall mouth going slack.

“But Peter!” Stiles whines arms flailing around.

“A puppy Stiles?” Bites back Peter, looking stunned. Those wide shoulders are now tense, his large hands are clinched tight.

“It was hurt!” Cries Stiles, the boys sharp words seem to soften the man in front of him. “It was bleeding and crying and I just couldn't not help!”

It's clear to the other onlookers in the room that the boys words are turning the man into mush.

“And, well I couldn't just let it die! I didn't mean to heal it, when someone was watching but there was so much blood and his eyes were so sad.”

Peter sighs, a soft smile now gracing his face as he moves forward to cup the boys smooth cheeks into his large hands.

“You have such a soft lovely heart, sweetheart.” Stiles beams at that, standing on his toes swaying forward for a sweet kiss that Peter gifts him.

Natasha clears her throat making Stiles jump, then hiss from pain. He stumbles and it's only Peter's large arms that keep the boy from crashing to the ground. The movement is still jarring enough it seems because Stiles cries out, delicate hands grabbing onto Peter's large forearms to try to steady himself.

With an almost breakneck force Peter whips around towards the woman and snarls, teeth bared. The sound ripping from his throat is terrifying but his hands are gentle as he easily scoops the boy into his arms and cuddles the boy to his chest. Like a perfect dance, Peter moves the boy around till his head is resting on his right shoulder and his left are is curled under the boys bent knees.

Stiles shoves his face into the mans neck, and like a dam that has suddenly been broken he sobs. The sound makes Steve flinch, it's so heart wrenching that sound, but watching as the boys body shutters and shakes as he's held let's Steve know how hard he had been holding in his emotions.

“I have you now sweetheart.” Whispers Peter into the boys hair, pulling away he kisses the boys forehead before looking directly towards Steve.

“Do tell me, Captain America. How do you come into play into this mess.” Peter tilts his head to the side, eyes surveying everyone around him. “You all look remarkably unharmed.”

“Clearly we are captives.” Natasha barks out momentarily drowning out the sound of Stiles sobs.

“Oh, is that so? So the great Avengers couldn't escape captivity? So that means, you just sat there while my boy was tortured, not lifting a finger when he undoubtedly screamed.”

Steve flinches as that, feeling guilty he hadn't be able to help Stiles. It was like a lead weight in his belly that he was only able to listen to the boys screams.

“Clearly he didn't need help escaping, he got out of his bounds just fine as soon as you arrived. He's clearly some type of mutant.” Clint says, with a swift jerk of his head towards the thick metal collar that now lays on the ground.

“Mutant?” Peter snorts, “My boy is no mutant, he is something so much more wonderful than that.” Hisses out the man, his eyes glow red momentarily. “And the reason he undoubtedly had to wait is due to pain and fatigue. Even the strongest can't always fight.”

“The metal we are bound in is odd.” Steve quickly goes to say, not liking that manic look in Peter's eyes. With the type of destruction the man just wrecked in under fifteen minutes Steve knew he couldn't afford the man getting angry.

“However so?” Peter asks, stepping forward towards Steve's cage. He studies the collar around his neck and the cuffs around his wrist and ankles.

“It even kept The Hulk at bay.” Pipes up Bruce, Peter slowly turns his head towards the man eyeing him slowly before humming.

“I see.” Peter frowns. “Sweetheart, how are you feeling? There are magic draining runes on those collars.”

“I feel sick.” Stiles hiccups against Peters neck.

“Magic?” Tony asks, eyes wide. “He has magic?”

“That is no concern of yours.” Snaps Peter.

“The hell it isn't!” Screams Clint, “He could be a threat, we've seen the destruction magic can do!” Peter's head whips around so fast Steve can hear the whiplash.

“A threat?” Peter takes a threatening step towards the caged man. “If you want a threat I'd gladly be one for you little human. You know nothing of magic, you only know the madness of a god who lost himself to an artifact he had no way of truly controlling. You fear things you don't understand because you mind was controlled by a madman. This world is pulsing with magic, it sways in the air unseen, it courses through the trees feeding the forest. It dances along the wings of the Fae and it shines from the moon when I howl.”

Peter sneers. “There are beings and clusters of different brands of magic in this world that Shield couldn't possibly began to fathom. There are beast and fairy's that having been protecting this world long before Shield and Captain America was even a foot note in history books. You think you are the only ones standing in a never ending war zone to keep this world turning when you are not. Stiles and I have fought battles and won against things that are far more terrifying then an evasion of Aliens and the raging of a God who just wanted to piss daddy off. You know nothing, and if you think I will allow you to keep on breathing with the thought of my sweet boy being a threat you have another thing coming.”

The words that flow from the wolfs mouth are sharp as his fangs, his blue eyes now glowing a wrathful shade of red that worry's Steve like nothing has ever done before. His teeth seem to sharpen and grow in length as a snarl builds in his chest.

“Peter.” The quite breathless sound of Stiles voice snaps the man out of his fury in seconds, his head whipping back around to look at the boy tucked safely in his arms.

“Peter, I don't feel very well.” Stiles whispers, the boy makes a feeble attempt to lift his head before it slumps back down towards the mans shoulders.

“Stiles?” The boy whines at the sounds of his name before the falls limp in the mans arms.

“Stiles!?” Quickly the man drops to his knees and gently places the boy on the floor, stretching him out so he could cradle Stiles now ashen face face in his hands. “Come on sweetheart, open your eyes for me!”

The only answer the man gets is a gurgle of blood that bubbles past the boys lips as he gasps for air.

“Can you get me out!?” Bruce suddenly shouts from his cell, making Peter's eyes glide towards him. “I'm a Doctor! Can you get me loose?”

With a hopeless look towards the boy on the floor Peter rushes towards the cell and rips the door off in a manner that not even Steve thinks he would be able to accomplish. Then Peter is kneeling next to Banner, fingers gliding over the collar, talking softly to himself as he looks over the etchings carved into the metal.

The man mutters a few choice words in a language Steve has never had the privilege to hearing before the bands keeping Bruce strapped to the wall fall away with a loud clatter. In seconds both men are rushing towards the teen, Bruce falling gracefully next to the boy before ripping his tattered shirt away.

Steve can't hold back the gasp of outrage as he see's the mess the boys chest and torso is. His skin is black and red with angry bruising. Bloody rips and gashes litter his ribs stomach, a steady flow of blood still trickling out even forty minutes after his last session of torture.

“I need medical supplies, anything you can find, bring it to me.” Bruce demands as he pulls off the light button down he had been wearing before they were captured.

Peter pauses in a way that lets everyone know he's untrustworthy about leaving Stiles with them, but the boy gives off a soulful cry of pain that has the man running from the room. It wasn't till he swiftly turns to leave does Steve notice the evidence of Stiles blood coating his skin.

Stiles twitches and stirs the moment Peter is no longer in the room, those pretty eyes flutter open and fill with tears as he tries to jerk back when he realizes Peter isn't with him anymore.

“Peter!” Stiles cries, eyes whipping around trying to spot the man. “Peter! What did you do to Peter!?” Sobs the teen, hands jerky as he tries to slap Bruce's hands away as he pokes and prods Stiles belly and chest.

“He'll be right back.” Bruce tries to soothe, fingers brushing through the teens hair for just a moment before they skitter away.

“I want Peter.” Cries Stiles, voice soft and sad as he looks around the room.

Then like a bat out of hell Peter comes running back towards them arms loaded down with supplies and a cart dragging behind him. Bruce quickly stand to look through what was brought to him while Peter takes a spot on the other side of the boy hands once again cupping pales cheeks and sweeping away tears.

“Now sweetheart, none of this now.” Peter says lightly. “You know I'm weak to your tears.”

Stiles huffs out a quiet laugh, as he glances up towards the man he so clearly loves. There's a connection between the two that Steve is finding hard to follow, it's nothing like what Buck and him have together it's so much more than Steve has ever witnessed anyone having with another person.

“Peter.” Bruce calls from his spot near the cart as he snaps on a pair of latex gloves the wolf had found him. “Can you get Tony out of his bounds too? He has very steady hands and we need to quickly stitch up Stiles wounds before his blood loss becomes to much.”

Peter plants a gentle kiss to Stiles lips before rushing off and doing the same routine to Tony's cell as he had done to Banner's. After rotating his shoulders and cracking his neck Tony side steps the larger man and makes quick work of making his way to Bruce and snaps on his own gloves.

With each man with a suture kit in their hands they fall on either side of Stiles before pausing.

“We don't have anything for pain.” Bruce mumbles, a frown on his lips as he glances towards the teens watery eyes.

“I can take his pain.” Say's Peter, he sits just above Stiles head, hands sliding down the teens long pale neck lovingly before he's cradling it between his large hands. Steve watches, fascinated as Stiles sighs happily before falling boneless on the floor as Peter's arms grow black with dark veins.

“Do it now.” Peter barks out, “I can only keep this up for so long.”

Steve doesn't know what that is, but Stiles looks blissed out, even as Bruce and Tony make quick work to flush out his wounds and start sliding the needles through his flesh to knit his skin back together.

Stiles gives off a dreamy giggle as he looks up towards his wolf. “I'm hungry Peter.”

The man smiles, though his eyes are sharp and calculating as he watch's Tony and Bruce work.

“As soon as we get home, you can take a warm bath put on your favorite flannel pajamas and we'll curl up on the couch with a homemade chicken noodle soup and watch whatever movie you want.” Peter promises, eyes glancing down briefly towards the younger man before he goes back to watching the two strangers doctoring us his young lover.

“Whatever movie I want?” Stiles asks, another dreamy giggle following his question.

“Yes, whatever movie you want.” Peter promises again.

“Criminal Minds.” Demands Stiles, he has a lazy grin on his lips that makes Steve wonder if Peter isn't just taking his pain but making him high as well while doing it.

“That's a TV show dear heart, but we can watch that if it's what you want.” Stiles doesn't give an answer this time, just hums lightly as he blinks slowly up at the larger man. His eyes take on a glasses look that has Peter demanding both Tony and Bruce to stop what they are doing.

“What's wrong?” Bruce asks, hands pulling away after cutting away the extra thread from one of the man wounds he had already stitched up.

“I need to stop draining his pain for a moment.” As he says this the black lines vanish for Peter's arms, but his hands stay in place slowly stroking the skin there when while Stiles slowly comes back to himself.

“Why?” Tony asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“We are conflicting magic.” Says the man after a moments pause, it's clear he doesn't want to share information with them but he's willing if it makes the two men working to help Stiles understand. “My wolf and his spark and very different breeds of power. While my wolf ability was passed on to be by genetics I am still bounds to the laws of magic. Mine comes from the moon, Stiles comes from so much more. The trees of the forest, the sands of the beaches, the wildflowers of the biggest fields. His spark draws that in and feed off of it, but trapped in these concrete walls he's limited to what he's getting, those trees, and those fields can't reach him down here. Which means, the magic that lets me drain his pain could affect him far more greatly then we could possibly fathom. I don't want to bliss him completely out that he chases sleep and slips into a coma.”

“Could you put a normal human into a coma?” Bruce asks, as he double checks his handy work then moves on to check Tony's. He doesn't touch, not when its clear by the sounds Stiles is starting to make that he's slowly starting to feel his aching body again.

“No.” Answers Peter, as he shushes and coo's towards Stiles to settle him back down. “You can continue.”

As Tony and Bruce get back to work Bucky's voice pipes up from behind the four men.

“Why not?” Peter glance back behind him for just a moment before bothering to answer.

“If I'm draining someone who doesn't have magic the only thing I will accomplish is taking their pain and putting them into a light sleep. Since there won't be any conflicting magic that could change the outcome of how the pain drain works.”

“What are you?” Natasha suddenly demands, Steve flinches at the harsh tone of her voice, eyes skittering towards her for a moment before finding his way back towards Peter who is now glaring in her direction.

“Werewolf.” Peter says with a smug smile.

“Alpha Werewolf.” Stiles says with a happy giggle. “The biggest baddest fucking Alpha werewolf.”

That smug smile Peter sends Nat's ways is far to sharp.

“What the fuck.” Whispers Sam, the man wiggles around for a moment trying to get comfortable but failing to do so with how everyone was who was currently still in a cell is positioned.

“Were done.” Bruce suddenly says, making Steve glance down towards the boys chest that is now neatly wrapped with gauze. Peter looks over their handy work before nods his approval, Stiles whines when the man stops taking his pain but he quickly quiet's down when Peter gifts him with a gentle kiss.

“I want to go home Peter.” Stiles whispers once the man pulls way from his lips.

“Then let's go home sweetheart.” Peter says with a smile.

Tony and Bruce back up rather quickly when Peter is suddenly towering over them as he moves around to gently lift Stiles back into his arms. They quietly exchange words in what Steve believes to be Polish, as Stiles gets comfortable against the mans chest. Just when Steve is worried they are going to leave without telling them how to get the others out of their cells Stiles waves a pale hand through the air blowing the doors off the cages with a loud bang that drowns out the sound of their cuffs falling away from their skin.

Steve quickly climbs to his feet, blinking towards the pair who vanish with nothing but a cool breeze and the smell of wildflowers left in their wake.

“Seriously. What the fuck!?” Bellows Clint.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“You're telling me, that one man, who can apparently turn into a five foot wolf beast killed fifty Hydra agents in under fifteen minutes?” Fury says, voice deep and slow like he's talking to children who don't quite understand words properly.

His tone is grating on Tony's last nerve, it didn't matter how many times they went over the details of what had conspired deep below the ground in some subbasement Fury was still refusing to believe what they were selling.

“We can't possibility be more clear on the matter.” Tony snips out as he slams his empty coffee cup onto the large table top.

“You could be more clear by getting me the footage off those computer systems when confiscated.” Fury barks out, his one good working eyes has an annoyed laser focus on Tony that makes him want to toss his cup at the mans head.

“I'm working on it, even Jarvis has his moments where he finds it difficult to work through certain streams of coding.” Though to be honest Tony was starting to suspect it was magic that was making it so difficult for Tony to get into Hydra's systems.

It clear the organization has stepped up their game, with the way they had been bound to those walls in shackles with no clasps or seams they had someone on their team that was familiar with the workings of magic. Tony had tried looking up the runes on the metal bands but had came up empty, there was no records of those symbols on any system he had found, and so far all the books he had gotten his hands on had turned out to be nothing but fiction.

It didn't bode well with the man that an organization as big and bad as Hydra suddenly was looking for help from the fucking supernatural though. It made himself and his team concerned about what they were planning that they had been willing to kidnap a boy without realizing he was in a relationship with a fucking werewolf that took out their men like it was child's play.

Tony could still hear the sound of bones crunching and ligaments being torn apart by that massive fucking wolfs teeth. It had been something out of a damn horror movie, all that had been needed at the time was the room to be dimly lite and the whole scene could have been something that would give Parker nightmares.

Hell Tony was concerned he would get nightmares from the heavy scent of blood alone that that been hanging in the air after the mascara. He knew for damn sure the sound of Stiles screams would haunt his dreams for months to come. Tony hadn't felt that hopeless in a long time, never did he think he was going to have to sit in some fucking cell listening to a kid just a year older than Peter scream in pain as someone tortured him.

“Get it done Stark.” Demands Fury, arms crossed like some high and mighty asshole, who honestly thought he could tell Tony Stark what to fucking do and he would listen. He had made that mistake once and he wasn't going to do it again. Those fucking accords had almost ripped this team apart as it was, due to some big wig assholes who thought they could police how they went about saving people.

“It will get done, when it gets done.”

Fury's one eyes narrowed, “I want those two found, they have things they need to answer for.”

Bucky snorts before Tony could make a shocked sound of his own. The sharp sound has Fury glaring towards the man.

“Something you want to add, Barnes?”

“As a matter a fact I do.” Bucky says with a sneer. “You are highly mistaken if you think finding those two and demanding anything from them is going to go over well for you. It was very clear with the quick destruction they caused that they are something not even Shield could go up against without knowledge you clearly don't have.”

“Two men is nothing compared to the things Shield has faced.” Some nameless, faceless agent that was off in the corner taking notes says, the an annoyed huff. Fury cuts his eye towards the man shutting him up but it's clear that Fury feels the same way.

“If I'm understanding what Peter told us.” Bruce says, “That boy Stiles wasn't even close to full power and all it took was a wave of his hand to blow up steel on several cells and toss a man a yard into the waiting mouth of a monster.”

“And that there is why they need to be found.” Fury spits out. “We can not have two people like that running around unchecked with no way of knowing how to stop them.”

“Stop them from doing what?” Sam demands, “That man Peter was clearly in his late twenties or early thirties, if he had some wicked plans I'm sure someone who have heard something already. Not to mention that boy was nineteen years old, and clearly had impeccable control over his gifts, if they had some plan for world domination brewing I positive nothing we find out quick enough would stop them.”

“Knowing their location who be idea to easily take them out.” Fury says,

“Take them out?” Steve's lips are tight with distaste. “You could take out a teenage boy out of fear? Not that I think a sniper would do you any good anyways, he stopped a rain of bullets from hitting his wolf with a twitch of his finger!”

“Stop arguing with me, and get me the information I need.” Fury demands, and with a annoying flap of his leather tench coat he stomps out of the room, his baby agent quick to trail after him.

Tony closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, Fury had another thing coming if he thought Tony was going to hand over any information he might possibly find on the pair over to Shield. Those two were not the type of people he wanted to get on his bad side.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“A puppy?” Peter demands with narrowed eyes, looking towards his little mate who is grinning shyly towards him, eyes wide behind thick lashes.

“But Peter.” Stiles whines, pouty lips looking pink and kissable as he pokes it out ever so slightly.

“A puppy?” Peter deadpans.

“It's the puppy Peter!” Stiles cries, holding up a black and white Husky with pale blue eyes that are deep and soulful.

“Oh?” Question's Peter. “Are you saying this is the injured puppy a Hydra agent loured you away with? The same puppy that got you thrown in a cage and held captive for a day and a half while I drove for miles outside of New York to come to your aid.”

“He was bleeding Peter.” Stiles whispers, holding the puppy to his still bandaged chest.

“So you said, my soft hearted fool of a mate. That doesn't explain why it's in our home.”

Stiles gives him a dazzling smile. “Because, his our pup now.”

Peter sighs, easily swayed by his little mate and those large honey eyes. He can't believe he's being bested by two sets of puppy dogs eyes.

“A fucking puppy.” Mutters Peter as he heads to his office, Stiles happy giggles trailing after him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of a series of stories where Peter and Stiles find themselves tangled in a mess with Hydra and Shield.


End file.
